


You Mezmorise Me

by SuperWhoAvengeTrekLock



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Drinking, Flirting, M/M, use of the word negro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-03 05:02:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1066072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperWhoAvengeTrekLock/pseuds/SuperWhoAvengeTrekLock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Sterek: 1920s, Derek is a band singer at a club, Stiles the son of an earl who walks into the club with his sister as her chaperone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from the wonderful Emily over at http://hale-in-the-tardis.tumblr.com/
> 
> Can I just say how much I loved this prompt? I've never had a prompt like this before and it really brought me out of my comfort zone. I loved writing it because I love the lingo and I just want to thank her for giving me this.
> 
>  
> 
> Here is a little word guide to the lingo you might see in the story.
> 
> Joint- a club  
> Flappers- girls with short hair, short skirts  
> Hotsy- totsy- pleasing, like someone who is better  
> Sheik- an attractive man  
> Puttin on the ritz- getting dressed up  
> Dame- a girl  
> Handcuff- a wedding ring  
> Ritzy- fancy  
> Jane- a girl  
> Dive- a dirty club

Derek tapped his foot to the beat of the song as he sang. It was a Saturday night and the joint was really jumpin’. He smiled as the music reached the instrumental part of the song. Scott wailed on the saxophone while Isaac beat on the drums harshly, but creating a sound that was so hoppin’, there was barely anyone sitting at the tables.

Boyd, Erica, and Allison, danced in the front, two flappers and a negro that followed the band. Boyd and Erica were together, on the down low, and Allison was dating Scott. Boyd danced with both women, cuttin’ a rug and not carin’ who was watchin’.

In this club, blacks, whites, and anything in between were allowed. It was an underground jazz joint that didn’t care who or what you were, as long as you payed to get in and had a good time. Sure, it wasn’t normal for black’s and white’s to mingle but… they couldn’t bring themselves to care about that. But that was the point of the club.

This was what Derek and the band– The Wolves– lived for. The night was still young, the music was high and it seemed like everyone was having a good time. It had been hard at first to find a place to play, but when they had found this place –the beacon– everything about it felt right. They started out as customers. Now they were a regular act on Saturdays.

He started to sing again as a whole new wave of people started pouring into the club. He watched the sea of faces, not seeing anyone in particular until the wave parted and two specific people walked in and Derek was surprised that he didn’t stop singing, or trip over the words of his own song. It was a girl, real hotsy-totsy in her, what looked to be, new dress. Her hair was long and done up just right. She was a red-head: absolutely beautiful.

But it wasn’t the girl he had noticed.

It was the sheik on her arm. He was probably the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. Both of them were, as people would say; puttin’ on the ritz. They were both dressed with expensive clothing. You work enough years as a tailor, and you can tell from a mile away what’s real and what’s tryin’ to be. And the suit he had on was the real stuff.

The man was tall, but he wondered how tall, as he was so far away. He saw that he had short hair as soon as he took the bowler off his head and set it on the bar next to him.

Derek was mesmerized on the spot. As the song continued, his eyes didn’t go anywhere else. He looked out of his comfort zone. The dame, however looked like she was ready to shake a leg. She tried pulling the man out on the dance floor, but he wasn’t having it. He sat at the bar, nursing a drink. She shrugged and went to the dance floor.

In Derek’s opinion, the song droned on. All he wanted to do at this point was go over there and talk to the man. He had no handcuff, and if he was in a place like this, there had to be something wrong with him. Either he liked men, liked negro’s, or was lost. All Derek knew was that no matter what it was, he was talking to that man tonight.

As the song finally came to a close, he was thankful. “We’ll be back in twenty,” he said and stepped down off the stage.

“Alright, who had your motor runnnin’? I saw your eyes fixed halfway through the song,” Isaac asked, Scott coming over to join them.

Derek looked over to the man at the bar and the other two followed his line of vision.

“Oh, I wouldn’t go there, sweetheart,” they heard Allison say from behind them.

“Why not?”

“Because he is sumthin’ special. That ain’t just no ritzy guy at a bar. That is the son of a British Earl. That Jane he brought with him is his sister. Their father sent them here as punishment. They were all over the paper not that long ago.”

Derek smiled. It wasn’t full, he figured he should save that for someone more worth his time. He couldn’t help but wonder what exactly that punishment was. He made a snap decision, deciding to disregard Allison’s warnings and go for it anyway. “Well than I guess I better welcome him to to the neighborhood.”

He pushed through the crowd and when he pulled himself up to the bar, he ordered two drinks before looking to the man, on his left. He was more handsome up close. His eyes were a beautiful shade of brown and his hair was spiked like most men started doing these days.

“Hey, I’m Derek,” he said with his best smile and his hand outstretched.

Stiles looked up at the man, not having noticed him but when he did, his breath was taken away. He was rugged, with stubble adjourning his face. His eyes were light but the man couldn’t figure out what color they were, not with the dark hue of the club light. He could tell that his jaw was hanging just a bit. He wanted to stop himself from thinking about this man right off the bat. This was the reason father had sent him away. But he just couldn’t help it. It was who he was.

“I’m Stiles,” he muttered as he took the hand.

Derek’s hands were soft and when he took the hand he swore he could feel the electricity between them.

Derek turned the name over in his head. It was odd. But he had always taken a liking to odd. He listened to him talk. He didn’t have much of an accent. It was faint, but it was still there. And boy did that make him want to take him home with him.

“I noticed you and your dame walk in and I noticed you were new. And saw you had a dead soldier so I ordered you one. I get ‘em free anyway.”

“Dead soldier?” Stiles questioned almost horrified.

Derek put his hands up in realization. Allison said that they had only been here for a couple of months. The lingo must be different here and they might not have picked it all up yet. “No, no. It means that you got nothin’ left in your cup. It means you need another drink.”

“Oh,” Stiles sighed, relieved, both of them sharing a chuckle. “I’m sorry. Some things are different here.”

Derek nodded. “I figured. So what brings you to a club like this. Don’t mean to offend you but it’s not usually a place where people like you are found.”

Stiles shrugged. He got that a lot. He and Lydia liked to go to places where they wouldn’t be noticed. The higher the rating of the establishment, the better chance the had of being recognized. But wherever they went, they still stuck out like sore thumbs. Their clothes were top of the line and the best. They were working on getting replacements. But it was hard when you’re sent to live with a rich uncle who throws out the ‘rags you buy off the street.’

Now that this man… Derek, knew who he was, he had no chance with him. Either that or he would want him for his money, which he didn’t really have these days. It was too bad… he liked him.

“I get that a lot. But my sister and I aren’t exactly like the other ritzy people you see.”

Derek could feel the tension. “Oh, she’s your sister? I had no idea.”

He watched the tension from the man’s shoulders dissipate as he smiled. The man obviously felt more comfortable when people had no idea who he was.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to come out. But I didn’t want to be what she likes to call ‘a wet blanket,’ and my uncle demanded I come and make sure she was okay,” he informed, the bartender dropping their drinks on the counter as he spoke.

The musician smiled down at the man, getting just a bit closer to give the man his drink. “Well I’m glad you came.”

Stiles looked up at him. This wasn’t normal to him. Sure, he had watched the way men flirt with girls all the time. But it would be too good to be true if that was what was happening right now. Derek was handsome, nice, and talented. Everything you could want in a guy. But there was no way he could be like him.

He took the drink from him, their fingers brushing and making him gasp just a bit. “M-me too.”

The musician tried not to smile. That had been the reaction he had been hoping for. He nodded as he leaned his elbows on the bar behind him. “So what are you and your sister doing in a dive like this? It’s not a place people usually happen to find.” If Stiles was like he thought, he just needed to draw it out of him.

Stiles looked around the bar, his eyes momentarily going wide as he saw two men in the corner getting very close. He had heard that this was the place to go if you were different but he had no clue that the people here would be this open about it.

He shook his head and looked back at Derek, realizing that he had asked him a question.

“I uh… Well… we heard about it from one Lydia’s friends. Said this was the place to be if you wanted to go somewhere without prejudiced. And my sister and I … we aren’t normal.”

Derek played dumb. “What do you mean?”

“Well my sister,” he said, gesturing across the club where she was dancing with a black men. “She fancies black men. And I… I’m–”

“Attracted to men?” he questioned. It was obvious that Stiles didn’t want to get it out. The shorter man looked at him with wide eyes but then nodded. “Hey, don’t worry about it, man. That’s why people come here. We can be ourselves. Hell, I’d be lyin’ if I told you that wasn’t the reason I found this place. I figured there had to be some place that accepted us. And I found it.”

Stiles’ head spun to him and Derek thought the expression he was wearing was one of the cutest things he had ever seen.

“Y-you–”

“Like men? Yeah. One in particular,” he said with a predatory smile as he moved closer and stood in front of him so that all the shorter man could see was him..

Stiles blushed and looked down. It wasn’t hard to realize he was talking about him.

Derek looked over his shoulder as he heard his band mates call his name. “I have to go get ready for my second set.” He pinched Stiles’ chin between his finger and his thumb, making him look at him. “But I hope you stick around so I can get to know you better,” he said and leaned in.

Stiles had no time to react as Derek swooped down and captured his lips. The kiss was short, chaste, and made Stiles want more. Derek moved to pull away but Stiles grabbed him by the shoulder and smashed their lips together. His hands tangled in soft hair as he did so.

Derek was pleasantly surprised by the kiss. His hands dropped to the man's waist, pulling him up out of his chair.

Their tongues met in the middle, clashing and battling, both of them hungry for more. Both of tme tasted like alcohol and Derek swears that’s the reason he suddenly feels lightheaded.

When they pull apart, they’re both panting and Stiles smiles up at him. “Yeah. I think I’ll stick around.”

The musician grinned and gave him another peck before moving to the stage. He had a feeling the night had only just begun.


	2. Forever And a Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys :) You all wanted a second chapter to this lovely story and here it is. I hope you all liked it and I'm sorry it took me so long but I swear I just got my laptop back and now I've done it :)
> 
> There's not much more slang in this chapter that you couldn't figure out for yourself so just one:
> 
> Neckin'- Kissing

Stiles watched Derek from his seat at the bar. He had effectively killed three soldiers… or whatever they say in this country. Point was; he had three more drinks and he was feeling better than he had in a while. He was opening up and he might have found a place where he belonged.

He had attempted to dance at one point but that resulted in Derek laughing so hard that he almost couldn’t finish the song he was singing. So Stiles opted for sitting this dance out and waiting for Derek to be done with this set of songs and he would come over and sit with him again.

The second time he had come over, they hadn’t gotten much talking done. Sure, their lips moved plenty but the only sound that had come out were muffled moans and groans that were quickly swallowed by the other.

Derek was a talented kisser. And he didn’t know why, but the scruff he had felt amazing against his face.

Derek’s eyes landed on him from the stage and Stiles felt his heart skip a beat. It felt like his body was on fire with the way he was feeling. It was electric. He tried to breathe in but his breath caught and his eyes widened a bit at the way he felt. He didn’t know anything about Derek except his name and he was the most beautiful man he had ever seen. But for some reason, he felt like they belonged. He couldn’t wait to get to know him.

The singer smiled widely as they looked at each other, obviously liking what he saw as his eyes raked up and down his body. Stiles couldn’t help but blush under his silent scrutiny. He didn’t know what to do, so his eyes closed.

He felt the music and the air of the people float around him and part of him felt at home. As if he belonged here with all these people he didn’t know. He hadn’t been paying attention, having been lost in thought, and suddenly Derek was in front of him again.

“Hi,” he grinned charmingly.

Stiles’ breath caught in his throat as he looked the man. Derek had sweat dotting his neck and forehead from being up on the stage. At one point he had stripped his jacket, making the men and women in the club go absolutely crazy and it was easy to see why.

Derek stood in front of him in just an undershirt and Stiles didn’t try to hide the way his eyes roamed over the perfect body this man had. He stuttered out a “Hi.”

Derek laughed and took his hands. “Why don’t you come meet my friends? The night is almost over.”

Stiles frowned at that, but let the man pull him to a group of friends, a couple of which were in the band. He had forgotten that the night didn’t last forever. He wasn’t aware of how much time had gone by. The underground club would be closing soon.

“Stiles, this is Scott and Isaac. They’re in the band with me, as you’ve seen.”

Stiles held his hand out to each of them, shaking their hands, his other hand laced with Derek’s.

He couldn’t help but look at them openly. This was a club of tolerance of differences. He wondered if these two were different or just tolerant. None of them looked like they were particularly different, but then again, you can never tell by just looking.

“This is Boyd and Erica. They’re together, but don’t tell no one. They’re our own personal dancers. They dance where we play, so they dance here.”

Stiles watched them chuckle at the small joke. It was obvious that the group got on well but it was also hard not to notice the scrutinizing looks he was getting under the smiles. They were all waiting for him to mess up or probably say something racist. But there wasn’t a bone in his body that cared about who you went with, as long as it satisfied you.

He smiled at them. “I saw you cuttin’ a rug. Where’d you learn to dance like that? You two belong on stage.”

In an instant he could see that he sparked something.

Erica looked to Derek with a look that said that she had said something along the same lines in the past. “See. We told you.”

Derek rolled his eyes and moved on. “And this is Allison, she’s with Scott.”

Stiles watched as she gave him a big smile, reaching out to shake his hand.

There was a silence before music started to play, another band getting on the stage that only played in between sets. Derek smiled charmingly as he looked to Stiles. “Time to cut a rug, babydoll.”

The shorter man had no time to object as Derek pulled him onto the dance floor. Derek pulled him close so that their chests were pressed together and he blushed.

“Er… I– uh, I’m not very good at this. Not this kind of dancin’ anyway, as you saw earlier,” he chuckled out as Derek began to sway them.

Derek grinned at the awkwardness of it. He pulled him even closer and put his his lips to the other man’s ear. “I have to say; you’ve got it, babydoll.”

Stiles smiled at that, a blush painting his cheeks at the nickname. No one had ever told him that. Back home, people had always told him he was odd looking and didn’t turn out as handsome as his sister turned out beautiful. It was hard to believe Derek was even telling the truth. But somehow he knew he was.

“You’re just throwin’ me a line.”

Derek chuckled. Usually it would be. It would just be a line to get the man to come home with him. Not that he did this a lot. But Stiles had him balled up inside even if he was good at hiding it.

“I wish it was. You’ve got me actin’ like a sap, baby.”

Stiles laughed, resting his head on Derek’s shoulder. “I’m stuck on you too,” he whispered.

Derek looked down at the man on his shoulder, debating on whether or not he should make a move on him. He looked like he was raised with class and wouldn’t just go home with someone. But then again, someone who cared about their raising wouldn’t be in a joint like this.

His eyes traveled around the club and noticed the woman Stiles came in with neckin’ with a negro in the corner.

“The dame you came in with seems to have found someone to keep her company. Hows about you, babydoll? You got a place tonight.”

Stiles smirked as he looked at him. “You offerin’?”

Stiles and Derek toed off their shoes and walked into Derek’s flat slowly.

He had sobered on their walk here from the bar. And now more than ever, the situation was running through his head. This wasn’t something he did. He didn’t go home with men he had just met a few hours ago.

He looked around, noticing that it wasn’t very big. The bed was in the middle of the room where a sitting room should be. He saw suits and clothes scattered around the flat, countless measuring tapes littering the floor and counters. His eyes moved to the table in the middle of it all and saw sewing kits, scissors, buttons of every shape and size.

“Are you…” he picked up a suit that was fairly expensive. Derek wouldn’t wear things like this.  “Are you a tailor?”

Derek nodded as he moved closer. “Yes, I am.” Part of him wanted to talk to the man, to get to know him but the other part wanted to throw him down on the bed and take him like a sailor on leave.

Stiles grinned as he felt Derek press his body against his from behind, the man’s hands finding his hips and his lips finding his neck. Part of him felt like he should object and tell him to stop yet the other part knew that he needed this. He needed to let go and do something for him this time. He let his inhibitions go. He brought his hands behind him and gripped at Derek’s thighs. “Good. That means you’ll have no trouble patchin’ my clothes back up after you tear ‘em off.”

Derek smiled at the thought as he nipped at the shorter man’s neck and Stiles moaned at the feeling. He ran his fingers down Stiles’ torso, slipping off his jacket and tossing it somewhere neither of them cared about. He tugged the shirt out of Stiles’ pants and trailed his fingers up and under, feeling the small yet defined muscles of his body.

Just that small interaction of skin on skin sent a shiver through both of them. This moment in itself was impossibly enigmatic in the most wonderful way.

Derek moved his warm hands up his chest and to his chin. He tipped his head to the side and captured the smaller mans lips in a passionate kiss. He pushed his tongue into his mouth. Stiles whimpered just a bit at the sensation. No one had ever kissed him the way Derek was kissing him right now. Derek’s tongue mapped out his mouth, lapping at his tongue and teeth.

It felt amazing to say the least. Derek’s mouth was warm and inviting and he didn’t think he could stop this even if he wanted to. This felt too good to be true. Usually there was a lingering guilt that chased him after he kissed a man. Sometimes he would pretend that he was kissing a woman in order to not feel so guilty. But there was no way to pretend with Derek. His short stubble was an ever present reminder that Derek was indeed a man.

But he felt no guilt. He felt nothing but pure lust and joy as he kissed a man he had only met a few hours ago at a bar and he was already ready to jump into bed with him. He was ready to let him do things to his body that no one else had ever done.

Stiles felt his knees buckle and his head begin to swim as all of his blood rushed south. He tried not to stumble clumsily as Derek turned him around so that they were facing each other. Derek held him so close he wasn’t sure if he was hearing the blood pumping through his own veins or if it was Derek’s heart beat.

Stiles broke the kiss with an audible pop, only needing to breathe. His pants came out in short breaths as Derek connected their foreheads, their breath mingling as he did so. Stiles brought his hands up and cupped the man at his neck.

The younger man let out a contented sigh with a chuckle tacked on at the end, receiving a smile from Derek.

“I’ve never done anything like this.”

The smile dropped. It shouldn’t have come as that much of a surprise that he was inexperienced even if he sure as hell didn’t kiss like he was. “You can level with me, babydoll. Do you want quit while the going is good?”

Stiles looked him in the eyes. This was his chance. He could tell Derek to take him home. But instead, he smiled. “You keep callin’ me babydoll and you can do whatever you want with me. Now are we gonna keep beatin’ our gums or you gonna do somethin’ about me bein’ sweet on you?”

Derek smirked before leaning forward and kissed Stiles hungrily. He felt the smaller man wrap his arms around his neck and card his fingers through his hair. He didn’t have much warning before Stiles tightened his arms, jumped up, and wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist.

The older man walked them forward, going toward the bed that was set up where the living room should have been. He threw him down on the bed, making the smaller man laugh.

“You take many men back here?”

“Why, you jealous?” Derek chuckled as he ripped the button down shirt open, the buttons scattering.

“Hey! I was pullin’ your leg when I told you to tear my clothes off!” Stiles yelled as he looked around for the buttons.

Derek kissed him again. “If I rip your other clothes, will you stay longer?”

Stiles looked up at him and melted back into the mattress. He smiled. “I’d stay forever and a day if you’d let me.”

Derek grinned. He didn’t know why he liked the sound of that as much as he did. He and this man had met mere hours ago… and he wanted nothing more than to keep him in his bed, to have him waiting for him when he got home, to have him come to the club every night and dance with him.

He kissed Stiles passionately. “Then be prepared to stay, babydoll.”

Stiles smiled into the kiss as he shucked his own shirt and then began to push at Derek’s clothes. Fingers fumbled at clasps and buttons while their lips connected sloppily. Sweat began to bead off of their bodies as their environment became hot and heady.

It wasn’t long before they were both naked, their bodies writhing together. Derek’s hips rolled in a rhythmic motion, grinding their sexes together and pulling the most beautiful sounds from both of them.  

Stiles moaned and arched as Derek leaned down and captured his nipple in his mouth, swirling around the pink bud with his tongue. The younger man panted. He wrapped his arms around Derek, his nails clawing at his back as Derek reached between them and touched him.

“D-Derek…” he moaned at the feeling of the intimacy. “P-please,” he begged, not quite knowing what he was begging for.

But Derek nodded, seeming to understand what it was that the shorter male needed. He watched as Derek spit in his hand, coating his erection with saliva a couple of times before positioning himself at his hole.

Derek pushed in slowly, trying not to hurt him, pushing in inch by inch to help the smaller man adjust. Stiles bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut as he was entered for the first time. The pain was… much worser than he thought it would be. He couldn’t help but feel like he was being stretched unnaturally and it wouldn’t surprise him one bit if he were bleeding at the moment.

Derek moaned as he entered him. Stiles felt so good, so damn perfect around him, he wanted to thrust into this heat as much as he could. Instead, the singer looked down at him with concern painted on his face. “Stiles? Are you all right?”

The sound of his name made the man chuckle a bit dryly. “I was beginning to think you thought my name was babydoll.”

Derek kissed him softly before dragging his lips over Stiles’ damp skin. “Stiles,” he whispered over and over again like his own personal mantra. He leaned down and sucked a spot on his neck, making the man keen and bare his neck for him.

“Derek,” he said breathily. “Th-this may be my first time… b-but I think you’re supposed to move…”

The man leaned up and kissed at one of Stiles’ freckles as he fully sheathed himself inside him, making the smaller man grip at his arms and his breathing erratic. He felt Stiles’ hands snake up and around his shoulders so that he was holding on to him from behind.

Derek moved, setting such a slow pace that he could have used Derek’s thrusts to count the seconds. His tongue darted out to wet dry lips before leaning up and connecting them with Derek’s. They both panted heavily, their breath mixing.

Soon the sting of pain that Stiles was feeling was one of complete pleasure. He shuddered against Derek. He could feel the blush rising to his cheeks as soft sounds escaped him.

Derek groaned at the sounds. He had never heard anyone make such enticing noises. It made his member twitch inside the lithe body under him. He rolled his hips faster and a bit harder, trying to elicit more noises out of him.

Their kisses were messy, moan filled, clashes of tongue and teeth. They could feel their bodies sticking together from the heat of being so close.

Stiles moaned louder as Derek moved. “M-more!” he commanded, not quite knowing what more Derek could give him. It wasn’t until Derek snapped his hips and hit something deep inside him did he realize how much more the taller man actually had to offer.

His body arched against him and he gasped loudly. “Oh, Derek! O-oh yes! P-please don’t stop!”

Derek smirked just a bit as he sped up, snapping his hips harshly.

Stiles cried out loudly and wrapped his legs around Derek’s back. Stiles couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling. It just felt so good, he didn’t know what else to do except let his jaw go slack and moan obscenely.

“Derek!” he moaned loudly.

The singer could see how close Stiles was. And if he was being honest, he was so damn close himself. He didn’t understand it, he could last so much longer than this. But with the mixture of Stiles’ voice and his hot body underneath and around him, he was too far gone to care how long he lasted as long as he had this moment with Stiles.

The smaller man could feel it building inside him. His body writhed and shuddered. He couldn’t take it any more, couldn’t hold back. He thrashed, throwing his head back and scratching at Derek’s back, no doubt leaving marks.

“P-please,” he whined.

Derek brought his lips to Stiles’ ear. “Let go, babydoll,” he whispered.

The words were enough. The sound of Derek’s deep husky voice telling him to let it all go was just too much.

He cried out as his body arched and his orgasm rocked through him, pearly white strings coating his and Derek’s stomach and chest.

Derek groaned louder than he had since they started, his body not being able to handle the sudden tightness of Stiles constricting around him and it sent him over the edge, coming deep inside the man.

He panted heavily as he rolled to the side, roughly pulling out of Stiles and making the other man whimper at the loss.

Both rolled on their sides to look at each other, still panting from their excursion. Their expressions mirrored each others.

Stiles grinned and snuggled into Derek’s chest. He smiled wider when he felt Derek’s arms wrap around him. He breathed in the taller man’s scent before letting all his breath go in a sigh. “Did you mean it… would you keep me?”

Derek smiled. “Babydoll, I’d keep you forever and a day.”

Stiles lifted his head so that he could see the man. Derek’s face was sincere and serious with a smile adjourning it. He smiled back at the other man. “Well then, baby, you’ve got me,” he said as they hugged each other tighter, not wanting to let go for anything.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I feel like I've got just one more chapter in me for this one. What do you think? You guys want an epilogue?


	3. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys wanted an epilogue so here it is. :)

Stiles sat in an old chair that angled to face the window but he was reading, letting the sunlight illuminate the room for him. But at this point, he wasn’t even sure what he was reading when all he could think about was anything and everything. He put the book down, looking around the flat. He let his eyes roam over the flat and smiled. It was an easy thing to do when he lived where he lived with who he lived.

He turned his head to look out the window. It wasn’t much of a sight to look at. The street was full of houses and it was getting dark. He saw people walking down the street, part of him wishing he had the freedom to go out whenever he wanted. He watched a group of men walk across the street and try to get the attention of a few women. He scrunched up his face at the thought but then smiled, remembering that he didn’t have to pretend to do that anymore. He did miss going out, however. But he couldn’t, not by himself at least. But it wasn’t all bad. He went with the group to quite a few places, even though they’re group was dwindling.

He jumped slightly when he heard someone coming up the stairs in the hallway. He listened to the sound of heavy footfall coming closer to the door. His smile grew, realizing who it was. He waited for the man to come in before he got up, bouncing over to his lover.

Derek entered the flat wordlessly. He toed off his shoes and socks and moved to turn around, suddenly getting a handful of Stiles, the younger man having jumped up and clasped his legs around his waist and his fingers at the back of his neck, finding his hair. He looked up at Stiles, seeing the big smile that graced his face.

He smiled back at him. “Hey, babydoll,” he said as his hands found the firm mounds of flesh that was his lovers ass. Stiles wasn’t wearing pants. He was only wearing a pair of underwear and a shirt that belonged to Derek and was far too big on the smaller man yet looked amazing. “How was your day?” He walked them forwards before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Stiles shrugged slightly. “Nothin’ to write home about. I read some books like I always do.”

Derek looked at the younger man with a somber expression. Stiles had given up so much for him. He had given up a life of luxury and stability to become a runaway from a rich british family. And to top it off, they had to keep him locked in the flat most of the time so that no one would see him. There was a reward out for him and Derek didn’t want him ripped out of his clutches.

Almost a year had passed since the night they met. The first few months had been a whirlwind of love, dancing, and passionate sex. They were hopelessly in love with each other. And there really was no going back to how they used to be, not that they would want to.

And that was when horrible news hit. Stiles and Lydia’s uncle had died in an unfortunate accident. The house had been left to them in the will, but their parents deemed them too young to handle such things. They sold the house, collected the money, and brought them home to England.

Derek frowned as he remembered the day Stiles told him that he had to go back. Stiles had come to him, crying his eyes out, telling him that he had to go back to England.

 _“It’s alright, babydoll. I understand,”_  he had lied. He didn’t understand and he hadn’t wanted to.

He brought his hand up to cup the smaller mans cheek. Stiles grinned as he leaned into the hand.

It had been hard to have this, to get here. It wasn’t easy to not only be a man but to be a runaway of a british Earl. It was why he needed to stay inside.

He thought back to when his parents had taken him back to England. He had cried his eyes out. He didn’t want to leave Derek. Derek was his everything. It was hard enough that they couldn’t be who they were outside the four walls of the club and the flat, but he didn’t want to be an entire country away.

 _“Promise me you won’t love anyone the way you love me?”_  he had said with a sniffle and in between sloppy kisses.

 _“I promise. I’ll even do you one better,”_ he had voiced while he stroked his erection. _“I’ll wait for you until you get back. Because I know you, babydoll. I know you’ll find your way back to me.”_

And he had. He had been skeptical at the time. He hadn’t known how he was going to come back to Derek. He didn’t know how he was going to get back across to America. He didn’t know if he could even do it. The whole thing had been full of potential problems.

But then a month passed. It passed and in that short amount of time, his parents had already set up two people for him and Lydia to marry. And neither of them could take it. Neither of them could marry someone here when they had made a home for themselves back in America with people they loved, Lydia having fallen in love with the negro she had met at the club.

So they robbed their parents blind. They took everything they could out of their parents safe, thousands and thousands of dollars between the both of them. They even took jewelry that they knew would be of value and used it to buy them two places behind barrels in the hull of a cargo ship going to America.

 _“I knew you’d find your way back to me, babydoll_ _,"_ Derek had whispered into his ear when he had come home to find Stiles sitting on his bed.

That night they had sat up talking and touching, candles lit in various corners of the room. They whispered to each other in the dimly lit room as if someone else could hear them, as if there were more people in the room with them. They whispered ‘I love you’s’ and ‘I know’s’ to each other. They had clutched at each other like there was a possibility that either could disappear into thin air. They had refused to let each other go until morning as Stiles talked all night about what had happened in England and how he and Lydia had gotten back to New York.

His smile faltered as he thought about his sister. He and her boyfriend George, along with Erica and Boyd, had gone north. Apparently there was someplace out near the border of Maine and Canada that interracial couples had deemed a safe haven for them. And so they left. He hoped they had all made it safely. Lydia had enough money to pay even the most racist man into taking her and the others wherever they wanted to go.

Derek shook him out of his reverie as he felt the older mans fingers trail up his skin, under the shirt he was wearing. He pushed the thought of the others to the back of his mind in turn for enjoying right here and now with Derek. He smiled down at him. “And how was your day, Mr. Hale?”

The older man grinned. “Completely and utterly boring,” he said as he nipped at his neck. “I kept thinkin’ of you and your damn accent.” Stiles moaned, lolling his head, and letting his eyes close. “And then of course there’s this pretty little body you’ve got that just happens to be wearing my clothes. So I couldn’t even think about what I was doing. Pricked a few guys.”

Stiles laughed before smirking sexily as he lifted his head back up to look at his lover. “I knew you liked it, baby, I just didn’t know it was that much.” He leaned forward, putting his weight on Derek’s chest, effectively pushing him down to the bed so that he was straddling the older mans hips.

“You make me hotter than a summer day even when you’ve got all your clothes on.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want your eyes to wander.”

Derek smiled up at him. “I’ve got you, babydoll. I don’t need anyone else.”

Stiles’ smile never left his face as he craned his neck up to peck kisses at the mans lips. “You sweet on me?”

“You know it,” Derek responded as he hummed contentedly.

Stiles chuckled. “We goin’ to the club tonight?”

Derek nodded. “Gonna be playin’ that song I wrote for you.”

The smaller man noticed the look on the face of the man below him. He looked at him like the answer to life was in his eyes. He kissed him like the world depended on their lips coming together. He spoke to him like he was everything.

Stiles knew that he and Derek would never have everything. They would never find acceptance in a narrow minded world full of people who would rather judge others rather than look onto themselves for their own sins. They would never be able to walk down the street hand in hand. There would be no marriage, no kids, no dates, the wouldn’t even be able to tell anyone that they lived together for fear of being killed. You heard about it more and more these days.

He would never see his parents again or the childhood friends he grew up with. He would most likely never see England again. He definitely wouldn’t see the house he grew up in. He thought of the tick marks in the wall of his former bedroom where his father had marked off how tall he was getting. He would never get to do anything like that. There was a very small chance of a child in his future.

And then there was Derek. Derek had been an orphan since he was sixteen when his parents died in a fire. There were only three people in his family that were able to make it out and that had been two of his sisters and their uncle. Cora, one of Derek’s sisters, had moved away when they had found out the kind of people Derek associated with. They said they wouldn’t be around while he sullied the family name. And then there was Laura. She danced at the club on the weekends, and worked as a seamstress with Derek at the shop their parents had left them when they died. She was just a tolerant as Derek and just as sweet.

Derek would never have those things either. Stiles couldn’t give him children or a white wedding. He wondered if maybe he resented that. He had asked in the past and Derek had always told him no and that he was perfectly fine with the way things were, just the two of them living out their lives together. It was a lovely thought, really it was. He simply wished he could give him more.

But instead of letting all of this seep out of him, he smiled down at his lover, pushing something back for the second time in a short amount of time. “No bringin’ me on stage this time.”

Derek smirked as he rolled them, trapping him underneath him. “You loved it, babydoll. You liked knowin’ that I was singin’ to you and only you,” he said as he spoke in a whisper as he popped open the buttons of the shirt he had on and trailed his lips over Stiles’ skin.

His smile grew fond as he brought his hands up to card through Derek’s hair. He pulled him into a kiss, smiling into it.

“I love you, Derek.”

“I love you too, Stiles.”

They both smiled at each other, content with now. The future was iminent. But perhaps it didn’t need fixing. Perhaps they were perfectly fine the way they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, guys. That's all she wrote. However, if you maybe wanted to give me sterek prompts, or any for my fandoms (Destiel, Sabriel, Sterek, Scisaac, Stony, Thorki, Johnlock) or if you'd like to simply follow me, here's my tumblr: http://superwhoavengetreklock.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> So what did you guys think? Should I do a second part and continue the night. The rating might get bumped up just a bit but you tell me?


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